


Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, F/F, M/M, Slow Burn, Vault Dweller!Barbara, Vault Dweller!Gavin, Violence, Wastelander!Arryn, Wastelander!Michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Contract: </p>
<p>Escort two Vault 38 Dwellers to rendezvous at Camp Cedarsden in the Plains Commonwealth along the Mississippi river. There are friendly locals who should be ready to point you in the right direction. There you will meet a woman named Aspen who will take them to their final destination in a town over. You will be payed 10,000 caps each if they reach it alive.   "</p>
<p>Michael would scoff at it now. If only it had been that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my terrible attempt at writing a German accent.

Michael wasn’t one for cigarettes. He much preferred a cold bottle of beer or, sometimes if he needed a pick-me-up, he’d try some form of chem to boost himself. But cigarettes left a bad taste in his mouth, both physically and metaphorically. Inhaling and exhaling long expired tobacco through smoke was leading him to cough and hack due to inexperience. 

He heard from someone that the little rolls were once very addictive to those who smoked them in the old world, life before the bombs dropped. But after years of exposure to radiation, weather, and who knows what else, they were grossly stale. 

The man wouldn’t be smoking the cigarette if it wasn’t due to his apparent boredom. Michael had lived a life full of hardship, work, anger, and loss. If he wasn’t trying to track down a specific gang he had a deep, surging vendetta for, he was busy completing mercenary jobs - shooting hostile ghouls, delivering packages, or even protecting a traveling caravan from time to time. 

Michael Jones did not _wait_. 

Those who knew him might even say that word wasn’t in his vocabulary. Yet, here he was, _waiting_ for a man Geoff had referred him to. 

Michael wasn’t a fan of working for someone he didn’t know. Someone might want to use him to get the job done but when time came to pay, they’d back out and vanish. Or the psychos of the Wasteland could lure him out with the promise of caps only to kill him and grab his supplies. That happened way too often, teaching the man to be extremely cautious when accepting a job. 

But Geoff had been the one to inform Michael of this deal and he trusted the man. That was the sole reason he agreed to see the person he may or may not be working for. 

Well that and the supposed high pay grade. 

He stood on an old highway along the outskirts of a city once called “El Paso”. At least, that’s what the remnants of a sign seemed to dub it. His butt pressed against a rusted guard rail as he continuously flipped open and closed his lighter. His jeans were worn and covered in mud and blood, same with his leather jacket whose sleeves were torn off. 

Michael lifted his hand to hold the cigarette in between his index and middle fingers, pulling it away from his mouth so he could release a puff of smoke. 

The radiated El Paso was consumed with bandits as far as the eye could see. There were constant fires from some camp in the city. Shortly after the smoke reached sky, shouts and gunfire followed, the flame soon extinguished. 

Michael had never been inside the city long enough to learn the names of the gangs. He was a strong merc and could more than just handle himself in a fight. But he wasn’t foolish. 

And taking on an entire hostile group of raiders alone was the definition of foolish. 

Even from the outskirts of El Paso, the man could see the signs of gang warring on. Street signs and overturned vehicles were littered with graffiti, many saying things along the lines of “Don’t fuck with us”. 

Now that Michael thought about it, the chance of this being a set up was greatly increasing. 

Shady part of the Wasteland. 

Later in the afternoon, sun starting to lower beyond the horizon. 

Fuck! Had he been set up? Did Geoff lie to him? Or did he not realize- 

“You look like a lost puppy.” Another voice echoed from nearby. 

Michael’s head jerked around, the man’s brown eyes desperately searching for the source. “Where the fuck are you?! Come out of hiding,” the mercenary called, hand reaching to his back to grab his assault carbine. But just as his hands were about to grab the barrel shroud, he was kicked in the back and the gun was removed. His chest slammed into the asphalt, air leaving his lungs. “You little fuck-,” 

“Who the hell are you?” He was interrupted by a feminine voice, the same from earlier. Michael flopped onto his back swiftly to look up at his attacker. He was surprised to find a woman dressed in black, a dark cowl wrapped around her head and obscuring the left side of her face from Michael’s view. She was pointing his gun, resting on the hood of a car. She was crouched, right leg nearly touching the hood. 

“Who the hell are _you_?” Michael repeated, furrowing his eyebrows. “And who sent you here? Was it - ah, what the fuck was his name? Jay. . .Joe. . .Joe Bomber? No, it was-,” 

“How do you know Joel Böhmer?” The woman asked. 

“That was it! Why do you care? Did he send you? To kill me? If he did that lil’ shit-,” 

“No. He didn’t hire me to assassinate you. But I may kill you if you don’t answer my questions.” She said, raising the gun back up, finger close to the trigger. “So who the hell are you and how do you know Joel?” 

“Jesus, lady. Fine. The name is Michael. And Joel. . .he’s my employer, alright? There are your answers. Now stop pointing my gun at me and give it the fuck back,” The man tried to stand and snatch it from her but the hooded female fired, a bullet grazing his side. The merc hissed, looking down at his clothes. There was a tear and a small red line that was slowly oozing small amounts of blood. “You bitch!” 

“Stay down or the next one is going through your skull.” The calm and seriousness in her voice told Michael to be wary of the woman and to listen to what she said. Her hands were still and her resolve was steel. This was not someone to fuck with. 

“Can I at least know the name of the dame who shot me?” Michael asked, gritting his teeth. He refrained from using the word ‘bitch’ in fear of angering her. He had to remember _she_ currently held the upper hand in the playing field. 

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, footsteps reached their ears only a small distance away. The woman pointed the gun at the sound’s source - a man clad in a brown jacket with a red bandana, a straw hat atop his head. He looked to be in his late forties, small grey hairs dotting his beard. As the woman was distracted, Michael leapt up and tackled her onto the hood of the car. The gun started to slide down, both fighting to grab it. 

But it was the new incomer who sprinted for it, holding it in the air away from both of them. 

“I vas expecting some of zee finest mercs money could buy and all I get are two sloppy zieves fighting over a gun like children? Not impressed.” The man said, tipping his head and tsking. 

“Who. . .the fuck. . .are you?” Michael asked with an exhausted and strangled voice as the woman below him wrapped her hands around his neck. He punched her in the gut, the lady letting go to let out a quiet groan of pain. 

“Now zat’s no vay to talk to an employer, is it?” 

”You’re Joel Böhmer?” the woman croaked as Michael pressed his lower arm against her throat to keep her trapped in place. She attempted to knee his groin but the mercenary was too quick and slammed her leg into the hood of the car, threating to break it as he clutched her knee. 

“Wunderbar! Zee lady knows voo I am!” Joel said with a smile which soon became a frown as he approached Michael, smacking his arm. “Shtop it! I am sure Fräulein Zech vould not appreciate having her leg broken. Besides, vould you really vant your ally limping during zee mission?” 

“Ally? The fuck-,” Michael loosened his grip. 

“Yes, yes, yes. She vill be helping you, ah, Michael I take it?” The employer asked, his left eyebrow arching as his green eyes met the merc’s brown. 

“Yeah, Michael.” He said gruffly, lifting himself off ‘ _Fräulein Zech_ ’. The woman coughed and sputtered, leaning up and clutching her throat. Michael glanced at the assault carbine still in Joel’s possession. When he held out his hand, however, the man simply shook his head. 

“You vill get zis back soon enough.” Joel said. “Now, I vish to discuss business and I rather you two stay neutral vith each other. You’ll be shpending some time together, ja?” 

“ _Ja_ ,” Michael echoed back with a roll of the eyes. He shot daggers at the woman who had previously tried to murder him. She simply stared back at him. 

“I do not appreciate mocking, Herr Jones.” Their employer said. “Since I don’t believe you two vere properly introduced,” he gestured to the woman. “Arryn Zech, am I correct?” The woman nodded. “And, Fräulein Zech, zis is Herr Michael Jones. You two vere hired for a fery important job-,” 

“First thing’s first - what’s the price? How much am I getting paid? And then tell me what the hell I’m doing so I can decide whether it’s worth my time or not.” 

“To be fair, Herr Jones-,” 

“It’s just Michael.” The merc growled. 

Joel gritted his teeth. “Fine. To be fair, Michael, I don’t believe you have much on your plate or you vouldn’t have traveled to zis location _just_ to discuss matters, ja?” 

The auburn haired man shrugged. “I heard there were a lot of caps involved - more than most jobs. So I decided I’d see what the hell the fuss was about. So do you have a number or what?” 

“Ja, I’ve got an estimate-,” 

“Estimate? Whoa, I want-,” 

“Nein! You vill get vat I have for you or you can leave now because I vill not tolerate this childish vinning, you arschloch!” Much like a stereotype from the old world, the German man was loud and fuming as he spat at Michael. “So either you Halt’s Maul or I’ll shut you up myself!” 

Joel’s eyes widened as he realized he was pointing the assault carbine directly at Michael, even Arryn in a cautious stance after the man’s outburst. He took a deep breath and lowered the gun. 

“I apologize for my yelling. It vas unprofessional.” He cleared his throat and held out the weapon to Michael. “You may have your gun back.” As the mercenary reached for it, Joel held a hand out and said, “But you vill listen to vat I have to say and vait till I am done - and only then - to ask questions. Understand?” 

“Loud and clear.” Michael said with a nervous nod, taking the carbine back. 

“Good. Now, you vill be payed approximately ten zousands caps each if zis job is carried out.” Joel chuckled at their shocked expressions. “You may close your mouths now. Don’t vant any bloatflys getting in zere.” 

“If we’re getting payed that much, this must be a dangerous job.” Arryn said, their employer nodding. 

“Ja. You two must transport two vault dwellers from Vault 38 to a settlement called Camp Cedarsden. I do believe I have a map on me somevere. . .” Joel patted his jacket, lifting it to find an interior pocket. He plucked a folded piece of paper, walking over to the car hood Arryn and Michael and nearly killed each other on. He unfolded it, unveiling a map of ‘America’ before 2077. He pointed to the far left corner of a land labeled ‘Texas’. “Vee are here: El Paso, Texas Commonwealth. And here-” Joel pointed into the center of ‘Texas’. “-is the location of Vault 38.” His index finger traveled across Texas and into other territories, eventually ending on the east side of a place named ‘Missouri’. “Camp Cedarsden is around here. You follow zis river to its right and you vill find the people zere awaiting you.” 

Michael whistled. “That’s a big fuckin’ road to travel.” Arryn pursed her lips as she studied the map. “Why exactly do we have to take two vault dwellers there?” 

Joel shrugged. “I vas hired by an old friend to fetch mercenaries to help. All he said vas it vas an important job and people’s lives vere at stake. He is villing to pay a higher price zan zee average man so I assume vat he says is true. You vill be looking for a voman named ‘Aspen’ ven you get zere.” 

“And what about fetching the vault dwellers? How are we supposed to convince them to send two of their people on this journey?” Arryn said, eyes glued to where Joel had showed where the vault was. A large star was placed there, labeled ‘Austin’. 

Joel shrugged and laughed lightly. “I’m afraid zat is somesing you must solve on your own. But, to try and convince zem, give them zis.” Their employer held out an envelope. Michael snatched it before Arryn could see, the raven haired woman frowned. 

Michael shook it, hearing the jingling of caps. “And what is in this to ‘convince’ them, exactly?” 

“I do not know. I assume caps and a letter but your guess is as good as mine or hers.” Joel said. “And to coax you two into going srough vith zee mission, I have five hundred caps for both of you.” He reached into his back pocket to hold out two, smaller bags, jingling. 

Michael gladly took it out of the man’s hands while Arryn waited until Joel placed it at the bottom of the car’s hood. 

“Are we taking the map with us?” Michael asked, slipping his money into a pocket in his jeans. “Or are we going to walk blindly?” 

Joel shook his head. “I’m afraid you are on your own until you reach Vault 38. But, if you do succeed in convincing zem, I hear Vault Tec so generously supplied each of the vaults’ residents vith devices called Pip-Boys. Supposedly those sings come vith a digital map, telling you vere you are at all times. Zat vould be very useful.” 

“Those people sound like they have it good. What’s to stop us from leading them out and killing them to take all their good shit?” the auburn haired man asked, Arryn furrowing her eyebrows. He really spoke his mind. 

“I hope you have good in your heart, Herr Jones.” Michael ignored the title. “Maybe the fact zat you vould be killing innocent people by not delivering zee dwellers to Camp Cedarsden vill persuade you away from murder.” Joel shrugged. “Once you leave my sights, I do not care vere and ven you go. I fulfilled my promise to my friend. No one can prevent you from disobeying orders.” 

Michael bit his lip. 

“So, do vee have a deal?”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey chapter 1! Maybe this will actually be interesting to read! 
> 
> (maybe not. probably not)
> 
> And it is very difficult to edit your writing while listening to Funhaus. . .I do not recommend it. You may mean to write "Guns offered much needed protection," and instead you'll type "Guns offered much needed porn". 
> 
> Thanks Bruce Greene.

Paws trampled the ground beneath them, kicking up dirt and crushing any remains of dead plants. The three darted, ready to pounce on the prey that trespassed into their territory.

With a loud, guttural howl, the alpha called to its pack. They were in sight.

But just as the wolf was about to leap, the human turned to him and pulled out a gun, firing a round into his chest. The alpha landed to the ground, whimpering as he bled out on the sands. The other hounds gathered around to avenge their leader, to rip him limb from limb.

Little did they know, the man was not alone.

From behind the brush, two others opened fire on the pack. Bullets whizzed past the man who ran for cover, the wild, mutated hounds going down without much of a fight. Soon as it began, it was over and the two stepped out of the bushes to help their friend.

“We’re getting better.” Dan said, walking over to Gavin who was just standing up from his cover. “Thanks for being the - uh, - bait.”

The blond took his hand and dusted himself off. “It’s alright, B.”

“Well, we’re lucky to have just encountered a few wild pooches. I don’t think we brought enough ammo today to take on a horde of feral ghouls.” Kyle said, reloading his submachine gun and subconsciously checking behind them. They seemed to be alone, however.

“Or those creepy centaur bastards.” Gavin stuck out his tongue. “They give me goosebumps.”

“Nah, the worst are those fuckin’ cazadors.” Dan said, receiving nods from the other two men. “I heard Greg snuck off in the middle of the night a few days ago to get something for himself but he ended up legging it back to town, covered in stings from those pricks.”

“I saw him when I was walking by the infirmary. The guy wasn’t in the best of shape.” Kyle said, grimacing as he recalled the poor man lying in bed, moaning as the doctor tried his best to patch him up.

“There’s a reason there’s a curfew.” Gavin said, walking towards a pond. “I don’t think the people realize how dangerous it is out here. If you faff about you’re going to regret it.” The man reached down to grab a small rock by a bush. He held his left arm out in a horizontal position, lining up his shot. Gavin’s right hand dipped below before releasing the rock in a swing.

The stone bounced across the water twice before sinking into the pond.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Kyle asked.

The blond shrugged. “Just somethin’ I picked up a couple months ago. I don’t remember how it happened but it did. I think it might’ve been from one of the old movies we watched.”

“I can’t believe those things still work. I guess we’ve got Brandon and Mr. Dunkelman to thank for that.”

Brandon took up the role of the apprentice underneath the community’s resident repairman - Mason Dunkelman. They focused on necessities such as the important job of fixing Vault 38’s door. When the group had exited in 2274, a malfunction had occurred where the door jammed, briefly locking the people outside. But the two had messed around with the mechanics of it and, by chance, it became fully functioning once more. In case of any serious attack, they knew the community could take shelter inside the vault once more.

Until that day arrived, which was hopefully never, it served as storage.

But with the door fixed, Mason and Brandon’s priorities become cosmetic projects: lights, air conditioning, heating, and refrigeration of meats, allowing the vault dwellers to become omnivores once more and to leave their previously strict vegetarian diet.

While exploring the Wasteland, a group had come across an old projector at a cinema from the old world. They had brought it back, thinking it would serve as an excellent source of spare parts. Instead, however, Mason - the ever-so eccentric inventor - tried his damnedest to restore the machine to its former glory.

And, to some degree, he was successful. To serve as entertainment, scouts would occasionally come across an old wheel of film and give it to the man. Once a month - or however long it would take for scavengers to come across old movies - they would gather in the center of town to watch it. Some were better than others; some of the movies weren’t even worth the trouble. But they all thrived in their goal: to brighten the dull life of the community.

Their current scout group was tasked with the regular job: collect as much food and water and report back. But, Brandon had bartered with them to convince the three men to go the extra mile and look for as much gasoline as they could find. He promised it would be worth the trouble and offered them his food rations for the next three days if they brought back enough.

When asked why he needed the gasoline, all he said was, “ _It’s for Mr. Dunkelman, okay? He wants to keep it secret. You’ll know soon enough._ ”

And so their bags were also weighed down with two whole gas canisters.

“Those food rations better be worth it.” Kyle said. “Brandon doesn’t know how difficult it is to find gas.”

And it had been, considering the planet’s state before the Great War. The Texas Commonwealth especially had lacked the necessary gas to power the people’s cars - which now sat dormant on the decrepit road. Most gas stations had been picked clean long before the bombs even dropped.

Luckily, nobody seemed to want the gas in the Wasteland since many gave up hope on automobiles which meant any leftover gasoline was theirs for the taking. It did take some searching, though.

Dan frowned. “I wonder what the old world food tasted like back then.” When Kyle and Gavin quirked their eyebrows at him, he explained. “I mean, like the Cram and the InstaMash are okay and I like to eat Fancy Lads Snack Cakes from time to time but who knows how long that shit has been around. They’re stale as can be and, sometimes, they taste worse than a rotten mutfruit.”

“Yeah. Maybe BlamCo Mac and Cheese used to be a treat for kids back then.” The three laughed. It certainly wasn’t a treat anymore but rather a last resort when you were starving and had nothing else to eat.

Dan looked up at the sky, watching as the sun moved. “It’s starting to get late guys.” He looked down at his Pip-Boy, covering it up to darken his view of the screen. “It’s almost 5. We should head back if we want to make it by dinner.”

 

* * *

 

The men were originally from Vault 38. The vault had been closed for some time - approximately two centuries. Several generations had been born and raised inside the confines of one of Vault Tec’s safest creations. Unlike some of the others like Vault 11 or Vault 108, Vault 38 had been created to house residents and was not the location of a sinister experiment.

In 2274, the vault door opened. Its residents peeked their heads out, curious of the world they’d soon inhabit. Shortly afterwards, the current Overseer by the name of Burnie Burns lead construction of town just outside the vault. The home they had built was soon named ‘Edenborough’ after the Garden of Eden Creation Kit they had been given.

They had lived there for six relatively peaceful years with only minor attacks.

The three had managed to make it back home to Edenborough just before the sun had set. They collected their rations, which consisted of a can of pork and beans and purified water. That was becoming a common meal choice. Gavin wondered if the supply was running low. If it was, scavengers would be plenty busy with runs.

Brandon himself had told Ali, the one handing out the food rations, that Kyle, Dan, and Gavin earned his since they had brought back what he requested. When they had met with the mechanic, he was grateful.

“Do you plan on telling us why we needed to get those?” Dan had asked.

“I told you, you’ll know soon enough. Mason just. . .he doesn’t want everyone knowing yet in case it doesn’t go as planned.” Brandon had explained.

Kyle had furrowed his eyebrows. “So does that mean that our whole search could be pointless if whatever you two are doing doesn’t work?”

“Well, not for you it wouldn’t. You still got my food.”

Gavin grimaced as he bit the mushy pork from a species long gone. Well. . .he’d much prefer Brandon’s helping of Brahmin steak. He had agreed to three days’ worth of rations so, if he was lucky, they’d be having food that _wasn’t_ canned tomorrow.

The blond sat at a table by a home, watching as the wind rustled a nearby tree’s leaves. Some were eating inside their homes while others had finished and had gone back to whatever they needed to do. His fork jabbed at a pile of beans; the prongs catch a grand total of three before he popped them into his mouth.

“You look awfully lonely, Gavvers.”

Gavin turned his head to see two familiar faces standing at the end of the table. The one who had called him had long, blonde hair and was wearing a regular blue jumpsuit from the vault - without the padding and protection his had. She had one hand on her hip and the other was holding a can with a fork stuck inside. Beside her was a woman with red hair and a lab coat over her own jumpsuit.

“Hey Babs, hey Tuggey.” The man said, gesturing to the extra spaces on the bench. Barbara slid next to him while Lindsay took a seat diagonal to them. “Where’s your dad? Don’t you usually eat with him?” Gavin asked the woman next to him.

Barbara shrugged. “Ah, he was busy working on something in his shop. When I told him the food was ready he just said, ‘I’ll get it myself!’ He wouldn’t let me come into his room. He’s up to something, like always.” The blonde rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

The relationship between the woman and her father was something rather special. She had lost her mother when she was young, shortly after her brother had been born. The doctor preforming the procedure said it was due to the stress of the pregnancy. Unfortunately, her brother, Steven, always seemed to blame himself for her death even when Barbara and Mason assured him it was simply life.

The Dunkelman’s eldest son had remained disconnected to the rest of the family after what had happened. He was quiet and even though Gavin had grown up in the vault with them, he rarely saw the man around. When the vault did open, he immediately requested look-out. He had a sharp eye and made for a good sniper.

Gavin was sure he was probably on duty now, as a matter of fact.

With his wife gone and his older son neglecting him, Mason grew closer with Barbara and Steven. He liked to tinker with various objects. He even once restored a toy prototype of Mr. Handy to let the children play with. The Overseer always liked to hound him, however, and was always ready to pounce on him for any time he caught him away from his work.

Gavin had to admit, he was jealous of Barbara. His own mother and father never went the extra mile to play with their sons. So while they were busy, Gavin and his brother, Johnny, used to sneak off to play with Barbara and Steven. Even Lindsay had joined once and while.

A brief frown was brought to his face as he recalled the memories he shared with Johnny. Running around in the vault, tackling each other, stealing comics and toys. Basic brotherly love.

He wished the man was still with them.

“Hey, you alright Gav?” Lindsay asked, breaking him out of his nostalgic flashback. He blinked and nodded. Both of the women were looking at him with concerned expressions.

“Yeah , I’m good. So, do you know what your father is working on?” Gavin asked Barbara.

She shook her head. “No. It’s probably another big project. Remember when he was working on the projector for the movies? He was a recluse in his workshop for a week or two. Only Brandon was allowed in and out. Do you know something about it?”

Gavin shrugged. “Brandon asked us to try and find gasoline on our scavenging trip today. He didn’t say what it was for, only that it was important.”

“Wasn’t gas used in cars in Pre-war times?” Lindsay started to suggest. “Maybe he’s trying to power up one of the heaps of junk from the road. I’m not sure what good it’d do, though.”

Barbara moved her lips to the left. “He probably just wants another accomplishment. His ‘breakthroughs’ are what keeps him going these days.”

“Not you and your brothers?” Lindsay asked, Gavin tilting his head as well. The blonde shrugged.

“Eh, I guess because we’ve grown up and are no longer his ‘princess and prince’ he focuses more on his work. Besides, since Brandon was taken under his wing he’s treated him more as a son than an apprentice.” Barbara couldn’t mask the tiniest bit of resentment in her tone.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin apologized. “I didn’t know there was trouble in paradise.”

“Not your fault,” Barbara glanced between the blond and the redhead. “I mean, he doesn’t ignore us or anything like that. It just seems like he’s got a love for Brandon since they both care about the machines they’re messing around with. Steven and I never really were interested in the confusing mechanics of those things.”

Both Lindsay and Gavin noticed she didn’t bother to mention her older brother.

“Well. . .what about you, Linds?” the blond asked the woman across from him. “How was your day?”

She smiled and shrugged. “Basic day in the infirmary.” Lindsay had been assigned the role of medic from the G.O.A.T.s and served under the head doctor, Dr. Zuelch. She was one of the only doctors of Edenborough. “Though poor Greg is in a bad shape. The cazadors really did a number on them.”

There was brief silence before Barbara asked, “Is the Wasteland really as bad as they make it sound? Or do they just tell us that to keep us locked in here?” Gavin realized she was asking him. He was one of the few to step outside the gates of Edenborough on a regularly basis. He had to remember that most only saw what their eyes could see from towers or cracks in the walls.

Even Burnie, the ‘mayor’ hadn’t left the safety of the town. Most agreed they couldn’t lose him, in case of emergency he needed to be present to give advice.

“Well, remember those videos we were forced to watch as kids in class?” Gavin asked. The two nodded. During their pre-teen years they had watched ‘educational information documents’ by service of Vault Tec to inform them of the possible dangers they’d face exiting the vault. “They weren’t completely wrong.”

Lindsay and Barbara waited for him to continue.

“I haven’t seen everything. There are some places so irradiated that they’re practically spewing neon green radiation. And that shit changes people - literally. One time we had been walking along the road and ran into this settlement. It was full of these once-human like creatures that called themselves ‘ghouls’. They were nice and bartered with us. Apparently other humans don’t take kindly to them, find them ‘so unattractive they are deemed unfit to live’.” Gavin shrugged. “I would never bang one but I don’t really see the need to kill them unless they attack me first.”

“Are those some of the only. . . _things_ you’ve seen?” Lindsay asked. She wondered what ghouls really looked like. They were once human but what had changed about them?

Gavin shook his head. “They actually warned us about some of things we might encounter. Giant ants, wild dogs, and hostile raiders. Those are probably the most common.”

The sound of massive, mutated insects made Barbara’s spine tingle.

“Cazadors are these ant-like monsters with bright yellow wings and a large stinger. I guess from what you can see about Greg, they inject some kind of venom.” Gavin said, looking at Lindsay.

“Yeah. He was covered in these large, red bumps with yellow heads-,” Lindsay was interrupted by Barbara gagging. They looked over to see the blonde with her eyes closed and making an extremely disturbed face.

“Please, I do not need that much detail. Especially about. . .bugs.” Barbara said with a shiver. Gavin and Lindsay smiled. Even when she had been inside the vault, whenever the smallest of radroaches made it inside the woman had freaked out and demanded it was killed immediately.

Even though he would never admit it, Gavin was usually with her, screaming for help. It was almost always Lindsay who would save the two and squash the overgrown bug.

“Well, they’re probably the worst. Besides those super creepy centaurs.” Gavin stuck out his tongue. “Now _they_ are some disturbing bastards. From what I hear from other travelers, they were exposed to this virus and became a mutated mix of animals. They’re just all around weird dudes.”

“It sounds like something.” Barbara said. “But I guess you kind of need to experience it for yourself to fully understand?” She looked at Gavin. The blond nodded.

“There are still things I’ve never seen. One ghoul even told me about these people called ‘Super Mutants’ that were exposed to the same virus as the centaurs. Supposedly they’re incredibly tall, like ten feet or bigger. And they’re incredibly dangerous. Even some explosives won’t do those pricks in. At least that’s what I hear.”

Lindsay waited until Gavin was done to ask, “What. . .what was it that. . .killed Johnny?”

Gavin frowned as he looked at his empty can of beans and pork. “They call it a Deathclaw. I’ve never seen it myself. Kyle and Dan have. They say it shit’s like them that fuel nightmares. Sharp claws, curled horns, and they often travel in packs. We steer clear of any hint of them.”

“They sound like the devil.” Barbara commented to which the man beside her nodded.

Gavin gave a sad laugh. “Well. . .the Wasteland is kind of like Hell.”

* * *

 

“Do you think that’s it?” She asked, looking over to the armed man beside her. The man nodded and raised a hand to point at a nearby billboard.

“It has the Vault Tec logo.” He said.

“But I don’t see a vault.” She said, only seeing the dim lights of a community. The dark night sky made it difficult to see but she couldn’t definitely spot a guard on patrol, pacing in a tower. “Only a town.”

“Then we ask the people living there.” The man said, sliding down from their position on a hill. The woman sighed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if you guys do read these notes, I have a very important question: 
> 
> Does the timeline makes sense? I have it written down and would like to share but the version I have saved contains spoilers, so I can't post it. 
> 
> But if you are having trouble understanding the timeline/backstory, be sure to comment and I'll put one without spoilers in a future chapter's notes.


	3. Chapter 3

_His heart was pounding, the sound like drums being played against his ears. He was breathing heavy as he ran, legs taking him as far as they could. He knew he was being chased. He just_ knew. 

_It was dark and he could barely see. But he could hear. He could still hear the screams. The gunshots. The flames. It all cycled in repeat in his mind. He had to find them. If he did, he’d be safe._

_But he had lost his place. He didn’t realize where he was. Where those_ killers _were. They could be right behind him. Or they could be right in front of him._

_He tried to slide to a stop but his eyes registered the fence before he could completely halt. The air was knocked out of him as he slammed into the wood and flipped over it. His back hit the dirt beneath him._

_He looked right, through the gaps in the fence to it. To see the place he once called home set aflame. Silhouettes were bolting his way. This was not a time to stop. He could never stop._

Michael jolted upright in his bed, sweat covering his whole body. His heart practically leapt out of his chest and he could feel the beats slowly steadying as he placed his hand on his chest. The man’s breath became less labored as he realized it was just a cruel nightmare. 

“Must’ve been something to wake you up like that.” Michael looked around to see he was lying on the ground, a small, extinguished campfire not too far from his feet. Arryn was leaning against the wall, looking up the sky. It was slowly transitioning into day as the sun peeked over the horizon. “You also talk in your sleep.” 

His sights were blurry thanks to the lack of his glasses. But he noticed their familiar form beside him. He quickly placed them on and the world around him slowly cleared. He frowned as he spotted a break in them through the corner of his eye. 

“Fuckin’ thanks, detective. What happened?” His tone switched from sarcastic to confused in seconds. They were surrounded by walls of rock but it wasn’t a cave because he could see the world above him. 

“You tripped over something on your ways down the hill. You hit your head on a rock and were knocked unconscious. I dragged your sorry ass into this ditch so we wouldn’t attract attention. We’ve been here for, hm, I’d say seven hours or so.” 

“I’ve been asleep for seven hours?!” He shouted, Arryn shushing him. 

“We may be secluded but yelling won’t help us. They aren’t deaf.” The raven haired woman peeked over the wall. 

“Who are you talking about?” Michael asked, rubbing his head and flinching as he felt a bump. It must’ve been one fall to knock him out cold like that. “Where is this ‘ditch’?” 

“I’m sorry Columbus, I don’t have a map.” Arryn replied with a glare. “And I’m talking about the people at that community you so wisely decided to try and visit last night. They sent out two people. I saw them go around this one tree and I haven’t seen them since. But we still have to be careful, you know that as a mercenary. I can still see the community.” 

Michael tried to stand but the second he was on his feet; he was grabbing the nearby wall to steady himself. His vision was wobbly and he felt like vomiting. “What the fuck?” He whispered under his breath. He had never felt this way before. 

Surprisingly, Arryn walked over and extended a hand. When he looked at it, she said, “I’m offering help. Are you going to take it or are you going to crawl?” Despite his stubbornness and his want to shoot down any assistance she had to offer, Michael knew he needed help if he was going to try and walk. 

“Fine.” The man took her hand and she let him lean against her. “Take me over to that spot you were looking at. I want to see how far away that place is.” 

As they approached the slight dip, Michael realized there was no opening to the ditch on the side, only the obvious open top. 

“Hey, how did you get me in here?” Arryn looked away from him. “I asked a fuckin’ question.” 

She sighed. “I had to lower you down in here. . .so. . .maybe I might’ve made that injury worse. . .I may have dropped you.” She looked sheepishly at him, hoping he wouldn’t punch her. 

Michael furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t throw your ass down.” 

“You’re lucky I helped you to this pit and stood guard instead of abandoning your ass on the rocks. I’d say we’re even.” Arryn shot back. Michael harrumphed but didn’t argue. 

Finally they reached the specific spot in the wall. Michael had to apply more pressure on Arryn to see, the woman letting out a small croak. His eyes adjusted to the light before seeing the same structures from yesterday. 

The only difference was, instead of the silence, he could hear the sounds of conversation and work, even from the distance he was at. He lowered himself down. “So, are we going to head over there or what?” 

The raven haired girl let out a laugh. “I’ve never meant someone so impatient. You do realize you hit your head and probably have a concussion, right?” 

Michael shrugged. “Well then maybe they have people there who can help. It’s better than sitting here on my ass waiting. I’m a man of action, okay? Besides, the faster we get this job done, the faster I get paid and get to go back to my style of living.” 

“And what exactly is your style of living?” Arryn asked. 

“Jobs, caps, and me spending what I’ve earned.” Michael said. “What about you? You never said what you did. And you know I’m a merc from Joel but you don’t look the type to me.” 

“I don’t really care to share my life-story to people I don’t know well. But I’ll give you a real short and simple version - I need money and this job gave a shit ton. There.” Arryn answered, leaning down to her small satchel on the ground. 

The man bit his lip while looking at her. Black hair, black cowl, dark suit, equipped with a silencer and a switchblade. Easy to sneak up on people. “You have to be a thief of some sort.” Michael commented. 

The woman’s lips twitched into a smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you. I didn’t know you were so perceptive.” 

Michael shrugged. “Ah, I’m average. So do you owe people caps or somethin’? I would think most thieves know how precious money is.” 

“I owe. . .some people money. My funds are suffering due to my foolishness. So yeah, I know how important caps are, from my own stupid mistakes.” 

The auburn haired man grabbed his bag from beside where he slept. He slid it on his back, arms going through the straps. “Mistakes like what?” 

“Two words: New Vegas.” Arryn said simply, trying not to shed too much light on her predicament. Being a thief meant keeping your life relatively secret. Though, she supposed, she’d be spending some time with this man. Might as well tell a bit about herself. 

The merc sputtered. “Woah woah woah! You’re telling me you’ve been to New Vegas? As in, _the_ New Vegas?” The raven haired girl nodded. “With the bright lights and strippers and casinos?” 

“That would be the one.” Arryn affirmed, placing her hands on two rocks jutting from the wall. Michael helped her up, the woman lowering her hand to assist his climb. 

The man laughed. “That’s crazy. I’ve heard people talk about it from time to time. And, on a caravan escort once, I think we picked up a station from New Vegas. Okay music, not really my taste though.” He dusted himself off. “So did you blow your caps on gambling? Hot nights with hookers? Alcohol? I bet they’ve got a fine collection of everything there.” 

Arryn’s cheeks tinted a bit. “. . .it was a little bit of everything.” Her voice dropped in embarrassment and Michael let out a bark of laughter. “Listen, I had hit a rough patch and New Vegas seemed to be the best place to go. I had fun there. . .a little bit of _too_ much fun.” 

“Sounds like it.” Michael grinned. “You know, for a girl that nearly murdered me when I first met her, you aren’t half-bad.” 

The raven haired girl quirked an eyebrow. “Thanks, I guess? You’re not as much of a pain in the ass as I first thought you were.” ________________________________________ 

Barbara opened the door to her closet, reaching in to grab one of the only clothing items in her possession: her Vault 38 jumpsuit. It had just been cleaned thanks to the laundry workers. She looked down at her current apparel: a gross, sweaty grey t-shirt and black shorts. These were the basics and served the vault dwellers as undergarments. 

The blonde took the neatly folded jumpsuit and let it unravel, getting a good look at the outfit she practically lived in. She led it over to her bed and placed it down, feeling the fabric along the arms. She frowned as she saw a few tears. 

Usually any of those were stitched up immediately while inside the vault. The past Overseers always had a tendency to want perfection and torn jumpsuits looked ‘unpleasant’. 

But now that they were outside, living in the Wasteland, rips in clothing were a common thing. And any resources for stitching were used for medical purposes. An open slice in skin from a raider’s machete was much more serious than a slash in the blue and yellow uniform. 

That was something that the inhabitants of Vault 38 struggled with in the first weeks of exiting the vault. They had to adjust to not only the environment and the new world they called home, but the fact that the luxuries they had been given inside were gone. 

They had to ration their food more carefully until the plants started to supply more, had to bathe less and less to conserve water, and work much harder to ensure anyone who desired to take over their community did not succeed in their goal. 

Her G.O.A.T.s had tasked with the role of ‘Shift supervisor’. She had been rather surprised and her father - despite wanting his children to inherit the family business as Pip-Boy programmers - had given her overwhelming praise. Maybe he thought that if Barbara was the next in line of the role of Overseer, the heat would be taken off his own back. 

For four years Barbara underwent her own kind of apprenticeship with Burnie advising her. He showed her how to run the vault, how to care for its citizens, and how to keep them all safe. It was an incredibly stressful job and it was important she remained strong in the face of danger - the other vault dwellers’ lives were in her hands. 

But Burnie had faith in her and trusted she could do it. 

When that day came in 2274 and Burnie took up the role of mayor, he still continued to teach Barbara so she could supersede his accomplishments to help the growing Edenborough. 

Barbara grabbed her nearby Pip-Boy and glanced at the clock in the corner. 9:41. 

Fuck! She was late! Burnie would have her head. 

The blonde quickly dressed herself and slid the Pip-Boy onto her arm. She ran her fingers through her hair, putting it up into a ponytail. 

The woman left her bedroom and entered the small home she shared with her younger brother and father. Steven was likely gawking over the fence, trying to imagine himself as a badass ranger traveling the wastes. Barbara wondered if he ever looked up to his brother - the big, mighty sniper on guard, ‘protecting the people of Edenborough’. He was young when the man started to split away from the family. He wasn’t much of a brother to him. 

Barbara walked passed a door that was shut tight, placing her ear against it to listen in on the conversation ensuing. 

“Are you sure this will work, Mason?” A man asked, most likely Brandon. “It’s in terrible shape. I’m surprised you’ve even managed to work out the engine. Where did you get those spare parts? They’re in good shape.” 

“So many questions, my boy!” Came the jubilant voice of Barbara’s father. “I am positively positive this will be a groundbreaking experiment! We may not succeed in the way we desire, but we’ll have something to show for all this hard work.” 

The blonde strained to hear. She could make out the shifting of gears and turning of a wrench - sounds that once soothed her as a form of mechanical lullaby in the vault. Now it just became a nuisance while she was trying to sleep and only heard the clanking of metal. 

“But where did you get these spare parts?” Brandon repeated. “From what the scavengers have brought back this is incredibly preserved.” 

“Yes, it is immaculate, is it not? Well, unfortunately, that is because I had to dismantle Marvin. I did not want to but I believed he had useful parts that could help in the powering of the. . .project.” Mason’s voice lowered. 

“I guess that explains why I haven’t seen him around.” Brandon said. 

Barbara frowned. She remembered the Mister Handy fondly. She decided she had heard enough and pulled away from the door, walking towards the front of the house. As she left she was hit with a surge of heat, remembering they had been one of the lucky one who were given an air-conditioner. Her father was to thank for the now working machines that were once broken, heaps-of-junk. 

Edenborough was alive. In fact, more than usual with a large gathering around the gates. A concerning amount. 

The blonde broke into a jog and wormed her way through the crowd, finding herself staring at someone’s back. She peeked over their shoulder and looked up to see Burnie standing at one of tower’s, shouting down to someone on the other side of the fence. 

Was it scouts from a mission? 

But they didn’t usually come home this early. And, besides, it wouldn’t have attracted this large of a crowd. Barbara looked to the woman next to her, a middle-aged redhead her height. “Excuse me?” She looked at the blonde. “Do you know what the fuss is about?” 

She shrugged. “Mr. Burns has been yelling at people on the other side for a couple minutes now. You can kind of see them through the cracks in the fence.” As she was telling the blonde, Barbara leaned up to squint through the slight space in between the gate doors. The first things she noticed was their lack of Vault 38 jumpsuits. The one was wearing a brownish jacket and jeans - both in poor shape - while the other was wearing all black. They certainly weren’t from Edenborough. 

“Any idea why they’re here?” She asked the woman. She shrugged in response. The man in front of Barbara turned around. She recognized him as Gray, who worked with the livestock. 

“I heard Burnie yelling at them, telling them they couldn’t come inside. But they’re still there. I can’t hear what they’re saying but Burnie doesn’t look too happy.” Gray told her, gesturing to the shouting mayor. Finally, his hollers died down as he listened to something the outsiders were saying. He turned to the mass around the gates. 

“Everyone please return to their stations immediately.” When everyone stayed put, he yelled, “That means now!” 

Fearing any punishment, everyone scrambled. Barbara watched as they heads slowly dissipated, looking for either Lindsay or Gavin. But she couldn’t seem to spot either one of them. 

“Barbara!” Burnie yelled. The blonde whispered a curse under her breath and looked up at her boss. “Come with me.” He turned to Barbara’s brother on the tower and told him something before climbing his way down the tower. The blonde approached him. “We have something very important to discuss.” 

Burnie reached down to his back pocket and pulled out a pistol. The blonde leapt back in surprise. The brunet calmed her and said, “They’re about to open the gates.” Barbara tilted her head in confusion. “And let the outsiders in.” 

She gawked at Burnie. “But, won’t that be dangerous? How can we know we can trust them? What if they weapons? You saw them, do they?” 

He sighed. “Yes, they are armed. But we’re taking the precautions. Everyone on guard will be watching them like hawks. They. . .they wish to negotiate and I need you there.” 

“Negotiate?” Barbara echoed. “Negotiate what?” 

“It’s a lot to take in. They’ll explain themselves. C’mon we’re going to the conference room.” The blonde nodded and started to walk away, looking back as the rusty gates creaked open. 

She didn’t know what was going on but she got the feeling that everything was going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a bit. . .
> 
> Well, I'll say it's in the works. It involves a lot of plot-driven dialogue which, to be honest, is quite boring to write. I'm having a little bit of difficulty with it and I may even need some extra help from a few of my talented friends but hopefully it will be posted on time!


	4. When You're A Lyin' Bitch

"I'm going to try and get these chapters out on time for you!" 

 

Yeah, nice try me. So, since it's clear I can't stick with consistency and I don't know how to utilize my time, I'm putting this fanfic on a temporary hiatus until the holidays have passed! 

 

I am going to be working on a 12 Days of Christmas collab with AchievementTeeth here on Ao3, or jinglemogar as some of you may know him as on tumblr, similar to the one we did last year. 

Once that is completed, hopefully I will be ready to start working on this again!  ~~maybe if once i get fallout 4 i will be able to get into the mood and get some writing done.~~ (itll probably just distract me) 

I am working on a 8tracks for this fic as well so hopefully I'll finish that over the break! 

Thanks for understanding! 

~Kelli 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ey! 
> 
> Some of you might've known about this but majority of you probably don't, so here it is! 
> 
> Fallout AU because I love the series. This is to get more over the pain as I wait to play Fallout 4. 
> 
> You do not have to play the Fallout games to read this but it would certainly help because I intend to make references and use the dynamics of the game. 
> 
> If you haven't played but are interested in the Fallout series I highly suggest you check out Shoddycast's Fallout Lore Series on YouTube, it is fantastic! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I plan to update a chapter every weekend but if you know me, I am terrible with consistency and staying on track so that may not happen. 
> 
> Just remember:   
> War. War never changes.


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